


At the End of the Day

by kristentalksalot



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristentalksalot/pseuds/kristentalksalot
Summary: Ian and Mickey are about to have their first baby. Ian tries to keep Mickey from killing everyone who looks at him.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 3
Kudos: 214





	At the End of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> I have a collection of these short fics in this little made up universe in the works. I’ll probably add more soon.

Ian extends out his hand and gives Mickey a soft smile. Mickey’s grip on the handles of the hospital bed tightens, his knuckles white and shaking.

“Fuck off,” Mickey spits through gritted teeth. Ian rolls his eyes but leaves his hand in the air waiting. The electronic fetal monitor beside the bed begins beeping louder. Ian’s eyes dart to the ream of paper printing out rapidly and he looks through the glass windows for someone he can call for help if things take a turn. 

There’s a sweaty warmth in his hand suddenly and Ian turns to find Mickey’s fingers threaded through his own. His lover looks exhausted and embarrassed and slightly desperate. Ian wishes he could help him through this somehow. Make things go quicker or take his place but he settles instead for brushing Mickey’s damp hair back from his forehead and pressing his lips to the older man’s temple. 

-

After the third time Ian’s hit with some piece of medical equipment, he figures it best if he gives Mickey a bit of space. He trudges out to the waiting room, shouts of “motherfucker” and “fuckin’ Heat Miser lookin’ bitch” drifting behind him, to where the Gallaghers have been waiting on and off for the past 8 hours. 

Debbie types into her phone with Liam asleep across her lap. Ian isn’t even sure what time it is but judging by the darkness outside, it was getting late. Lip and Carl stood up the second Ian entered the room, expectant looks on their faces. Ian shakes his head and Carl slumps back down into the chair.

Lip pats him on the back and hands him a beer he snuck into the hospital. Ian pops the cap on the arm of the chair and downs half the bottle before settling into the chair. 

“Mick’s gonna be pissed I didn’t bring him any... might as well finish it before I head back in,” Ian sighs and lets his head fall back against the wall.

“Fiona says she’s sorry she couldn’t stay longer,” Debbie speaks up, “She got offered an extra shift.” Ian smiles and makes a mental note to thank Fiona later for how much of her time she spent waiting with them. The other siblings had come and gone from work and school, but Fiona got her morning shift covered so she could rush to the hospital for her little brother. She always seemed to know when Ian would need extra support around and he knew she would be guilting herself over not being there for the birth of his baby. After all, she’d been there for Lip’s first baby and then real first baby. 

Ian allows his eyes to close for just a moment before he’s jolted awake by the sound of clattering metal and the unmistakable swears of an angry Milkovich. Lip starts to laugh and Ian flips him off as he runs back to the room. 

Ian dodges a metal tray as he enters Mickey’s room and notices a frightened nurse in pink scrubs backed against the wall, clutching her stethoscope. Ian nods toward the door and she gives him a thankful look before scurrying into the hallway. He can hear her crying as she rushes out of sight.

“She fuckin’ started it,” Mickey shouts, hoping she can hear him. Ian grins down at the man he loves and takes his hand before he can say no.

“You made her cry,” Ian whispers, kneeling beside the bed. He folds his arms and leans his head to the side. “What could she have possibly done to deserve a bedpan to the skull?”

Mickey glares at the green eyes gazing up at him and tries to shake his hand free with no avail. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling before answering. 

“She was fucking staring at me and askin’ me shit,” Mickey mutters, biting the corner of his lip. He’s visibly embarrassed and Ian knows better than to ask what he’s really thinking.

“Could she have possibly been trying to take your vitals? Maybe even see how our baby is doing in there?” Ian’s tone is even and sincere and Mickey fights the urge to hit him. He hates the fact that they’re here; he hates having to rely on people other than Ian; he hates everyone knowing his business. Even more than that, he hates how scared he is.

The doctor comes in at that moment and Ian kisses the back of Mickey’s hand before standing up. Dr. Connor takes the chart from outside the room and smiles at them both before flipping through several pages. Her expression falters for a moment and Ian suspects there’s something in there about her volatile patient. 

“Okay, how are we feeling?” She asks and Ian cringes. Mickey hates when anyone asks how ‘we’ are feeling. Ian squeezes his hand tighter in a warning to be nice and hears Mickey sigh. “So, I see here that you haven’t been progressing as quickly as we’d like. I’d like to do an internal exam to get a better sense of where we’re at before moving forward.”

Mickey tenses up and Ian nods at the doctor who looks at her watch and excuses herself. Mickey is already shaking his head before the door is even closed.

“Not happening. Fuck that.” Ian slides his arm behind Mickey’s neck and runs his nails up and down his arm while he thinks of the best thing to say. The heart monitor he’s hooked up to beeps faster, numbers rising.

Ian nudges at Mickey’s side until the smaller man scoots over in the tiny bed to give him room. He brings one large hand to spread over Mickey’s belly, over their baby, and for the first time in months, Mickey doesn’t shove him away. 

“I know none of this is ideal,” Ian starts and Mickey scoffs, “but... there’s no other option, Mick. This time tomorrow we’ll be home with our kid, just the three of us. But today... today I need you to do whatever they want.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes and licks his lips as if to argue but then pauses, looking down at Ian’s hand over his stomach. As if on command, the baby kicks at Mickey’s ribs making him wince.

“Little fucker is already taking your side and she’s not even out yet,” Mickey smirks and brings both hands to lay over Ian’s. 

Ian grins, “She? I figured you’d want a boy.” Mickey raises his eyebrows. 

“I don’t make the rules, she’s a girl. I can tell.” Ian laughs and Mickey gives him a look that tells him to accept it and move on. 

Ian’s gaze lingers on Mickey’s face, hoping he doesn’t need to broach the subject again. 

After a few beats, Mickey groans and pushes Ian off the bed. “Fine. Just get the doc and tell her to make it fucking quick before I change my mind and go have this baby in the parking lot.”

-

Mickey is already on the operating table when Ian walks in. He almost doesn’t recognize his partner all dressed in blue scrubs with gloves and even the dumb paper cap that seems completely unnecessary. It’s not like Ian will be the one scooping out his internal organs. Mickey is completely numb from the chest down and his arms feel like noodles. 

Nurses buzz around the room, plugging in machines, checking monitors and jabbering to one another in medical jargon that he can’t understand. It makes him nervous and suddenly he’s glad he can’t feel his legs because he would be halfway down the block by now.

Ian nods seriously as he’s briefed on what’s about to happen and then makes him way to Mickey’s side where his arm is outstretched on the table. 

“Hey,” Ian smiles, clearly nervous. From the corner of his eye Mickey notices his leg shaking.

“Just make sure they don’t fuck with any of my organs while they’re in there,” Mickey grumbles, swallowing hard as a young woman situates a paper barrier just below his chest, blocking his view. 

Ian laughs but the nerves are clear in his voice. He wants to joke around and pretend that this isn’t completely terrifying but the most important person in his world is lying on an operating table. Ian tries his hardest but can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“I-I love you so much, Mickey..” Ian trails off. Mickey looks around him, embarrassed by the very mushy public display. Still, a rush of hormones swell at the sentiment and Mickey finds his eyes filling with tears. 

“Love you,” Mickey mutters quietly. He tries to blink away the moisture but his position causes the tears to slide down sideways.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“ Ian starts but Mickey shakes his head and forces a smile.

“Not you.. I swear once she’s out of me I’ll stop acting like a little bitch.”

“No you won’t.”

“Fuck you.”


End file.
